


Under The Stars (We Are What We Are)

by raptormoon



Category: Moana (2016)
Genre: Angst, FutureLegend!verse, Gen, I should probably mention the angst, Maui only has lame arguments, argument, look at that Tamatoa is being mature!, mentions of people getting eaten, oh yeah, they don't really resolve this either, this is not how you sort out your feelings, when did this happen?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 09:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14132799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raptormoon/pseuds/raptormoon
Summary: Under the stars, Maui asks Tamatoa a hard question. And he doesn't like the answer.A brief moment in time, after "A Better Future" and before "Everything Burns," both by JadeWolf.





	Under The Stars (We Are What We Are)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadewolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadewolf/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Better Future](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870197) by [jadewolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadewolf/pseuds/jadewolf). 



> Hello dearest friends! This is a birthday gift for [JadeWolf](archiveofourown.com/users/jadewolf) and takes place in her Future Legend story universe (which, by the way, if you haven't already, you should definitely read!)
> 
> Also I am posting this in lieu of a new chapter of Send Your Armies this week.
> 
> (The block. It's strong. -_-;)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“The stars are nice tonight, aren’t they?” Maui asked.

Tamatoa hummed an affirmative, never looking away from the twinkling glimmer lit upon the dark blanket of the sky above, his face calm and near-serene, for once. The giant crab’s body glowed softly in the night, bioluminescence sparkling much like a reflection of the stars overhead.

Maui fidgeted awkwardly, trying to think of how to steer this conversation in a way that wouldn’t spoil it instantly. He didn’t  _ want _ to have this conversation, but kind of felt like he needed to at least try. He took a deep breath.

“Did you watch the stars like this every night on your island?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light. But bringing  _ that _ up was never a good idea. Wait, no, this whole thing was a bad idea, he wanted to take those words back now-

“Most nights, sure. When it was clear enough. Not like there was much else to do.”

-...wait. Tamatoa was  _ really _ calm. Maui breathed in through his nose, then let it out. Okay. Back to square one. He’s gotta ask. Maybe now would be the  _ best _ time to do so. When they were both mostly calm.

Breathe in. Breathe out.  _ Calm.  _ “And, uh, the other things you got up to?”

Tamatoa was silent for long enough that Maui started to think he’d been tuned out entirely. Not that he could blame the humongous crab, he  _ did _ have a lot of stargazing to catch up on.

But the antennae twitched, the long, pink-striped lengths of them trailing, relaxed, in the sand suddenly perking up, and both of Tamatoa’s eyes swivelled down to look at the demigod. He regarded Maui for a long moment.

“What, exactly, are you asking?”

The short hairs on Maui’s arms and the back of his neck rose, electrified by the weight of that gaze. This was a bad idea. He didn’t want to ruin the still-fragile friendship they had managed to forge in the dark depths beneath Lalotai. He didn’t want to be reminded of his mistakes, nor did he want to remind Tamatoa of his own.

But he had to know.

“Tamatoa…” he began, and tried frantically to think of the best way to phrase this. “On your island….” Why was this so hard?

“On my island… what?” There was something about the timbre of his voice, the tone of his question. He knew what Maui was going to ask. Didn’t want him to ask anymore than Maui wanted to do the asking.

But Maui had to ask. He had to  _ know. _

“On your island… why…-” He took a deep breath and looked away. Let the breath gust out. He couldn’t continue to meet Tamatoa’s eyes while he asked this, even if he wanted to witness every microscopic reaction. But the anger was still too strong. It was tucked away for the moment, pushed back behind the nerves and awkward reluctance. That was the only reason he could even bring himself to ask in the first place. He wanted to, but couldn’t, right now, look upon the face of the creature who-

“Why were you eating people?” He managed to keep his voice calm and level. He wasn’t sure if the question had come out accusatory or not. Maui wasn’t even sure if he wanted it to.

Beside him, the giant crab shifted, and Maui could hear the intake of breath. Sure he was about to be lambasted with angry words, he hunched his shoulders, defensive, and let a little of his anger leak out so that he could meet it in kind.. Maui was surprised, then, when only a sigh met his ears.

“I knew you were going to bring that up, eventually,” Tamatoa replied in a low, rumbling voice. Maui couldn’t quite make out the emotional undercurrent, but he could tell there was  _ something _ there. Despite himself, he glanced back up at his friend. Tamatoa wasn’t looking at him anymore, gazing again up at the stars.

Maui waited. He wanted to push, impatient, but he knew that Tamatoa would answer in his own time.

“When you pulled up that island, I imagine you saw it had everything. Things to explore, places to go, food to eat. And it may have been perfect… for you.” Tamatoa’s eyes lowered some, but he still did not look at Maui. “I am not you, you know. And I kept growing. There wasn’t enough fruit on that island to feed me. I couldn’t fish for food easily, not with those shoals.”

He looked at Maui then, and the demigod was taken aback by the fierce, if muted, anger that was splashed across his friend’s glowing face.

“I was  _ starving, _ Maui,” Tamatoa continued. “You left me alone on that island for  _ centuries,  _ and I starved for most of them. The first time two thieves showed up, it made sense to make use of available resources. And then it made sense to keep doing it! What else was I supposed to do?!” His voice was heated now, and exasperated, claws opening and closing restlessly. Maui could tell that Tamatoa was restraining himself, but it still made him uneasy.

“I will never be sorry for what I did,” the crab continued. “I was determined to survive, no matter what, and no thanks to  _ you. _ As far as I’m concerned, fresh meat is fresh meat.” His eyes narrowed further, the glare now piercing. “Waste not, want not, you know.”

Maui bristled at that. Calling the humans mere  _ meat _ was a grave insult, but it was the repeat of that phrase - that unrepentant quip that had sparked a fight between them all those long years ago - that made his blood boil. Still, he pursed his lips and called the anger back within. He considered what Tamatoa had said, took a deep breath, and tried again.

“You could have bartered with them,” he suggested. Tamatoa immediately scoffed, but Maui bulled ahead. “You could have traded your treasures for food! I’m sure they would’ve been happy to do that!”

“As if!” the crab retorted, his words clipped as his own temper began leaking out. “For one, no human would ever have stuck around to  _ trade _ with me. It was stealing or running, never anything else! And even if they  _ did, _ they wouldn’t have had enough food to last me very long. A few extra pounds of whatever they could give up would’ve been next to worthless.” Maui tried to speak up, but was cut off.  _ “And! _ And, eventually, I would have run out of things to trade. What then, Maui, hmm? Just let myself whither away?”

“No!” Maui shouted, trying to break in then surprised that he’d been given room to speak. “No, of course not. But I’m sure there was another way. You didn’t have to eat  _ people!” _

“Sure I did,” Tamatoa responded, suddenly calm.  _ “You _ left me trapped there. I didn’t have any other  _ choice. _ I couldn’t leave, couldn’t hunt, could barely fish. There  _ was. No. Other. Way!”  _ The anger was back in full force now, Tamatoa glaring down at Maui with narrowed eyes, mouth open and showing his teeth in a subtle snarl. His bioluminescence flickered minutely, but Maui could see that he wasn’t to the point of rage just yet.

Maui’s own anger was simmering, bubbling over, and he was trying to reel it back in when Tamatoa spoke again. “What about your own little island, hmm? From what I hear, it was even worse than mine. You must’ve been hungry too. In a thousand years, did you never once find a little surface crab to eat? Would you have stopped to think about it if some monster fell upon your shores?”

Maui was taken aback. His anger still raged but it was shoved aside for the moment. This conversation wasn’t supposed to be about  _ him,  _ so he was unprepared for having the focus shifted to his own former predicament.

The look on Tamatoa’s face was still angry, but now a good measure of smug, too. “You did,” he crooned. “Or you would have. How is that so different? Why is it bad when I do it, but not you?”

“You’ve eaten plenty of surface crabs too! It’s not the same!” Maui tried to use force to cover his floundering. He could tell that Tamatoa saw right through it.

“You keep telling yourself that,” was the calm reply. “Maybe someday you’ll even believe it.”

“It  _ is _ different!” he insisted. “Humans are at the top of the food chain, not crabs!” But he knew, as soon as he said it, that it was the weakest argument he could offer to a monster.

Tamatoa, sure enough, looked decidedly unimpressed, and the anger on his face melted away. “I beg to differ,” he murmured, wryly. “They’re tiny, slow, weak, and stupid. That’s practically  _ asking _ to get eaten.”

Maui clenched his jaw. “They’re  _ not _ any of that!”

Tamatoa snorted. “Fine. Maybe some of them aren’t  _ stupid. _ But they certainly are all those other things.”

“That doesn’t make it right to eat them!” Maui’s hands clenched into fists.

“It wasn’t right that I  _ starve to death  _ on an island that I had been  _ abandoned _ on.” There was sharp reprimand in Tamatoa’s voice, and despite himself, Maui flinched. His anger still roiled, but he knew that that had been his biggest mistake. He had always meant to come back… but he never had. He lowered his eyes, still angry, but now also shamed.

Then, unexpectedly, Tamatoa sighed, looking and shifting away from the demigod. Maui glanced up again to see the crab’s eyes slowly trace back up to the stars. “Maui,” he said, and his voice, now calm, carried the weight of centuries. “I know you’ll never forgive me for it. I don’t expect you to. But you shouldn’t expect me to be sorry, either. I’m not.” His voice hardened with those last words. “And I never will be.”

Maui opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came. He wanted to respond, but could think of nothing. He sat there for a long moment, looking up at Tamatoa as the crab looked up at the stars. Finally, the demigod sighed, and let it go. He had learned enough, finally, to know to quit when he was ahead. Better to be patient than risk their whole renewed friendship by insisting on more answers he already knew he wouldn’t like.

Far above them, the stars twinkled uncaringly.

  
  
  
  



End file.
